Why, hello there!
If you’re going to make a resolution to try something, do something, start something … why wait until a given day to actually try, do or start that something? Kind of calls into question one’s commitment to that resolution, huh? So…why wait until tomorrow when I can start today, right?
I’ve been neglecting the wicker chickens lately. Lately, as in…well…almost all of last year. So my simple resolution — my December 31st resolution — is to give myself the time most days to sit down and write. Nothing deep. Nothing skilled. Just. Writing. So, here I am.
The last few weeks have been rough on me. Cal’s passing was sudden and very unexpected, and not a day has gone by that I haven’t ached for his goofy, pain-in-the-ass, loving self. We went up to the lake house last weekend and tossed his ashes into the lake. If ever there is a heaven for Cal, that lake is it.
I needed something to soothe my sadness, so I picked up my knitting needles and cast on. I had had some yarn in my stash that I’d intended for a sweater, but I stumbled upon a lace pattern that I simply couldn’t resist.
I’ve always thought of wraps as grandmotherly-like things and have shied away from them. But for some reason, this lace, this yarn…well, it speaks to me. A wrap it is to be. I can hardly wait to toss it on over a brown t-shirt and jeans.
They say knitting’s therapy. There’s no doubt in my mind of that. I have a chair in my home, that, though the fabric is loud, is the quietest place to be found in my house. Away from the kids’ rooms, the play room, and even the kitchen, it’s tucked into a corner with natural light and just enough warmth under its bamboo blanket to keep things cozy. I’ve spent hours there lately. And in that chair, tucked under that blanket, and knitting that wrap, I’ve worked out a little bit of my grief.
